Mail Delivery

It is something we all take for granted.
We walk outside each day and retrieve it so we can bring it inside.
Some days we carry many things in our hands.
Some days we carry very little, with most of it ready to go in recycling.

Some people have to walk down their driveway each day to retrieve it.
Some just have to open their door.
Some only have to bend down and pick it up off the floor.
There are many ways we receive our mail each day.

I remember two blizzards we had when my children were young.
The plows had nowhere to put the snow.
The mounds of snow around the mailbox were frozen solid.
There was no way we could shovel it out

People got creative.
Milk crates, pushed into the snow, were placed near the road.
Mail was delivered into anything that would hold it.
My children loved to wait for the mail truck so they could bring the mail inside.

We have snow again, yet nothing like those blizzards many years ago.
The man who plows our driveway makes sure he leaves a clear path in front of the mailbox.
I can’t imagine delivering the mail each day.
Our postal carriers need to know how much we appreciate them.

Neither snow, nor rain, nor heat, nor gloom of night, stays these couriers from the swift completion of their appointed rounds.

The motto, that has always been associated with the postal worker, has an interesting beginning.
The words were written by Herodotus in book eight of The Persian Wars.
Herodotus was impressed by the efficient postal system used by the Persians.
It was a relay-like postal system, which Herodotus compared to the Greek torch race.

There is nothing in the world which travels faster than the Persian couriers, Herodotus wrote.
Covid has made mail delivery challenging to say the least.
Many packages have been delayed, since postal workers have called out sick.
If not sick, some must quarantine because of exposure.

We have all learned to be patient with an overtaxed system.
However, not all delays and challenges are related to a virus.
Some delays are for other reasons.
Some mix-ups keep happening.

We have twenty-four houses in our development.
We have all gotten to know and appreciate our mail carrier.
She is efficient.
She delivers the mail the same time each day.

In early December, she told me that she needed surgery.
It was nothing gravely serious, though it was necessary surgery nonetheless.
Dedicated to her route, she tried to time the surgery when it would least affect all of us.
Without even checking at the post office, I knew she was out on sick leave.

Mail mix ups were happening frequently.
Our street loops around, with a small cul-de-sac at the top of the hill.
On that cul-de-sac, there is a house that has the same house number as ours.
We have, on occasion, gotten packages delivered incorrectly, but never our mail.

Now; however, I have had to bring mail to the other house quite a few times.
I would think that the carrier would be looking at names when the mail is delivered.
Apparently, our carrier is looking at numbers alone.
We have gotten our neighbor’s mail which we have to place in their mailbox.

When I went to my post office to ship a package, I asked about our sweet mail carrier.
Yes, she had her surgery and she’s doing fine, I was told.
She’s home recuperating, he continued.
I am very thankful that she is doing fine, but how I miss her.

This is the confidence we have in approaching God: that if we ask anything according to his will, he hears us. (1 John 5:14)

God the Father never mixes up our prayers.
He hears our prayers and answers each one of us.
He never gives my answer to you and your answer to me.
God never makes mistakes.

God never sleeps.
God never ignores His children.
God hears our prayers.
God is attentive to our cry.

God is more efficient than any postal system.
We don’t have to wait for our prayers to be delivered to Him.
God hears our prayers and knows our prayers before we even utter them.
God hears our heart.

I do hope our mail carrier will be back soon.
I miss her.
Her efficiency does not compare to God’s ability to hear all His children at one time.
All His children’s prayers, every minute of every day, are heard and answered.

Thank you, Father for being attentive to the prayers of Your children.
Our prayers are never uttered in vain.
It matters that we are heard.
It matters that You care enough to listen to the cries of our heart.